The group of men wore the uniform of officers. One officer was a Major, a major who controlled other men with the attitude of a Sergeant.

His was the motive and means to explore his adventure into driving log trucks.

His truck was not new nor an old wore out machine of backbone.

His thoughts were secure, his actions firm and yet he questioned and needed me to drive…

Upon orders and results of decision the truck was driven towards a goal. Tight lipped as the wheels turned until the truck slid to a degree teetering towards a giant tree on the left and a rocky abutment on the right.

What route would this officer choose? His the unspoken risk of having me move the stone until smooth, wide, and pleasurable?

or

to try and regain control of his fate.